Almost
by Kleonlumi
Summary: Saying those words earlier whenever I would happen to bump into her at the gym, at the library, hallway, study, chemistry lab… wherever, it would have made a huge difference. Day after day, years ago, I would allow my bashfulness to let the chance pass away, let it be tomorrow until the day came that 'tomorrow' had belonged to someone else. [HIATUS - WARNING: FIC IS NOT EDITED YET]
1. So close, but still so far

This thing over there kind of messes up with my lay-out...

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><p><strong>Almost<br>**~An APH Fan Fiction~  
>[AU, HETERO, DL?DR!]<br>(Frying Pangle)  
>I don't own APH whatsoever.<p>

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><p><strong>Chapter One: So close, but still so far<strong>.  
>(Song for this chapter: www . youtube watch? v=mhI_ NY5Z5Ps)<br>Note: Remove the spaces.

...

-o**0**o-

_I would and certainly tie those shoelaces for her…  
>So in that way, she'll never have to trip and fall for someone else.<em>

In a trance I gazed upon her, this beautiful maiden, with long brown locks that curl elegantly like a treble clef on a carefully handwritten 18th century sheet music. Those strands of hair gathered in a beautiful mess of wisps tied back by a deadly-blood red band. She has ever-brilliant green eyes, resembling the rich deep green of breath-taking forests. Her legs were delightfully long but strong and agile, stretches from Klagenfurt all the way up to Vienna. Skin, fluorescent and radiant, bounces off shimmering light from the damp of sweat. Her voice…

"Can you hold this for me? I'll tie my shoelaces for just a sec."

Her voice makes me tremble like a trill in a crawling decrescendo.

_Again, I would and certainly tie those shoelaces for her.  
>If that means, she'll sat beside me and linger.<br>For just a second, two… or maybe longer._

"Aren't you going to play? Come on, everybody is having fun!"

My eyebrows arched. I stole a look into her eyes but shyness would forcefully drift mine away. It was just a simple question that requires a simple yes or no, but it got me awkwardly tongue-tied… and speechless.

I'm not much into sports and just about everything that requires me breaking bucket-loads of sweat. Not that I flatly hate vigorous physical activity at all, but it is for the stark, blunt reality that I do suck at it most times… No, not really, actually… I suck at it _all the time_. But I'll never say a word of it to her. I would never admit to her that I really wasn't a P.E. class guy.

"I'll be on the next game… at the time when… uhm, they switch players."

"You mean… _substitution_." She flashed her amused smile which revealed perfectly aligned teeth peeking through those plump and pink lips. She showed me those pretty green, jade orbs enclosed in a cage of bountiful lashes that are gracefully curved upward.

"I guess that's what it is." I squared my shoulders and blink my eyes away into returning her wonderful smile. I've always wondered if she ever found my smile as pleasant behind my shy lips. If ever that she found my purplish-blue eyes handsome behind the rigid cage of my square, black-rimmed prescription glasses.

She nodded what I think (what I really want to think) was a nod of fondness towards me. She batted her eyes and stared at the towel and drinking flask I was holding. That had sharply reminded me to return what personal belonging of hers she had let me hold. I hesitatingly gave them back because that would simply mean that a simple conversation that I dreamt of having with her will end without even starting.

"Rehydrate well… That will keep you having a those great smashes."

"By smashes, I bet you mean _spikes_." She chuckled silently at what I just said and twisted open her pink-coloured drinking flask. She then continued, "Smashes are only for racket games… but, you're right. Rehydrating keeps me in tip-top shape for doing a smash-slash-spike… whatever you call it."

I'd tried my best to hide that blood rushing into my cheeks, tinting it with colours of embarrassment. I really have nothing in knowledge about this volleyball thing. However, I did keep the conversation going.

"Now I call it a smashing spike."

That had made her smile sweetly at me. Oh how I wish she would do that every single day.

"You really are an amusing guy…?"

However, she keeps on forgetting my name. We were already reaching the middle of our final year in high school and we were classmates since elementary school and yet she never remembers my name.

It made me sad and ache in lots of ways.

"Roderich. Roderich Edelstein." I gave my name to her with a strong intent gaze and firm tone, wishing and pledging that from this day on, she will remember my name forever. Now that I thought of it… Would that be even possible in the slightest?

She drank the contents of her flask at the same time nodding slightly as she hears my name. She spilled the last drips of water into her face and gently patted it dry with her soft towel. She slowly stood up from my side and faced towards me.

"I'm off… I'm going to smash-spike my team into a smashing victory." She winked at me and quickly turned her heels towards the court, leaving me alone again in the solitude of the quiet wooden bleachers. I clearly could see those soft brown curly tips wave goodbye to me. All her team mates were cheering and glad to have her back on the game. She really was good at these kinds of activities, it was never hard to see and I could always bet she could even beat the sturdy men. Oh God, she looked damn hot in those volleyball jersey and shorts she was wearing. It hugged her curves perfectly and the colour brought out the smooth glow of her skin. At her back was an obviously bold lettering of the word "Hedervary"- Her family name.

She was beautiful, smart and sharply witty… She is a fully-blossomed young woman, vivaciously strong-willed and robust but still graceful in her ways.

_There is nothing to change. She's close to perfect.  
>But I always wanted to change that surname of hers…<br>And replace it with mine._

I could only sadly laugh at what I had dreamt of and desired so much of my teenaged life. How many times I just wanted to forget it and let the unattainable wish vanish and fleet away with the dense clouds of the blue skies. But even though how much I tried to tell myself that all sweet obsessions pass, the forlorn wish is too heavy that it falls back from the heavens and would hit me hard on the head, making me irrevocably bruised with longing and even more fondly besotted with the lovely young lady that I might not ever have.

I squirmed on my seat and stretched my back, leaning against the wooden beam. I gently touched the patch of skin that covered my inner wrist and found small purple blotches that might be from last Wednesday's P.E. class. I remember so well how hard I had hit the incoming ball, trying to give a good fight. It flew so fast in a downward trajectory towards the opponent's court. It made an almost electric shock-like pain to radiate in my poor limbs. I made this stupidly awkward dance of pain that had made the other guys laugh so hard they choked on their tonsils. But still, the ball didn't made it in as it flew out of bounds into the head of Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, that Spanish classmate of ours who was so stupidly busy chatting with his friend, Francis, to even realize an angry ball was coming to displace further the already displaced brain of his.

Oh and we both ended up in the nurses' room to ice-pack both of our injuries.

And I wasn't able to play the piano for one whole day after that. Now, I could already move my wrist side by side without feeling any pain and that's it. I guess I should have listened more about warming up before playing and hitting the ball properly. Normally, I wouldn't even care about all of those shit exercises and fuck stretching. If not only for Elizabeta, I would not even waste my energy into slapping some useless rubber ball.

As the men's first game ended with our team losing. I was beckoned forward by our team captain, this time the seemingly fully-recovered but with a fading violet bruise in the forehead Spaniard. I sighed long and hard, unzipping and removing my sports jacket, tossing it alongside my gym bag. I came down and joined the team who already started a hushed briefing.

Sweaty, heavy arms were hung over my neck. I crouched a bit and pushed back my eyeglasses that had slipped a millimetre or two. Antonio cheered up the team and assigned tasks and strategies to be done. One by one he speaks of what needs to be done by each and every one. Lastly, he faced towards me.

"..."

_What the hell was that long pause?_

"Err… Roddy, just play the game, _si_?"

I kind of glared at him trying to pass on some message.

He blinked and said"…Don't overdo it. I believe you could really hit the ball good, just put up some control."

I was surprised that the guy had picked up that I was trying to say "spit-your-coaching-out-or-I'll-rip-your-bruise-off" with my eyes. The Spaniard was known to be slow in realizing or maybe simply just slow in the head. I have known the guy since he had transferred into school in the middle of our freshman year. That time, he barely spoke any language besides his lispy _mi-amor-como-esta-usted_language. At the dorm, he was assigned to the room in front of mine, with Francis Bonnefoy (The infamous Living, Breathing STD… President-Founder-CEO of the SLUTs "Society for Liberation of Undone Trousers"). I had pitied the guy for having such unlucky fate, but it seemed that the world turns around really weirder than anyone would think. Instead of the expected new student screaming out for a room transfer, he became one of STD's best buds.

"Antoine, mon chéri, just give up… Your team won't stand a chance against us. Honhonhon…" Speaking of STD, he was just standing inches before the net flashing his smirk and some weird laughter. He bounced the ball a couple of times and scratched his sweat-soaked scalp, digging a finger into his messy blond ponytail. "…especially when _Let-them-eat-CAKE _is playing on your team."

Well that was rude. I was bracing myself to retort something that would sound really, really terrible when Antonio got a hold of my chance and put his sweaty, tan arm over my neck. "Don't be so sure of yourself…" He then pointed a finger at me and smiled "_Let-them-eat-cake's_spikes shall be the end of you." With a very proud and loud voice, he showed his darkened bruise and tapped it. "See this? He could hit the ball so hard you will never have a chance to return any ball from him."

"Oh well. There is no need…" Francis chuckled in a gurgling voice. "For it won't even make it in, _non_?"

Antonio would purse his lips in what I thought from stifling a laugh from a deep thought of maybe Francis was right. The bearded man had fisted him slightly at the shoulder and ran off to the other side of the court, almost tripping as he had dashed and caught his head under the net. After letting out a slight and hurtful "ooh", he looked back at us and stuck his tongue out as if he was hiding his embarrassment.

The Spaniard beside me heartily laughed at Francis and yanked me closer to him. "Just ignore him, _si_?"

"No need to tell me actually. I would do just that." I squirmed away from him, scratched a trail of sweat from where Antonio's hand formed a gross damp phantom of an arm and braced myself at the right front, at where Antonio appointed me to guard when he boasted his invincible strategy.

After a tossed coin decided that our team would do the service, the blow of the whistle screeched hard with a sound almost like of an un-oiled heavy door. Arthur Kirkland, the unsociable blond guy with a tremendously glaring pair of eyebrows and who was famously called as Francis' beau threw the ball up and slapped it in a very fast and downward motion.

Through the slits of the dark-coloured net I have seen STD wink and countered the ball with great ease and a ballerina-like grace. At my back my ears caught up some angry huff and whispering of a "Shit that bloody arsehole!"

I was a bit distracted for a second because of that, and when my mind finally told my consciousness to focus at the incoming ball, good thing it wasn't too late and too near, so my perfectly formed arms passed the ball for a pass. Actually, my heart pounded hard before that and I was shocked but more happier to see the ball flawlessly bounce into the air.

But what would make me the most happiest is when I looked at my right side and seen Liz sitting at a stool and clapping her hands. I didn't know until that time that the girls were already finished with the game. But whatever, at least she would now be at my side. She would smile and my heart will float up again. God, I wish that she would make wonders at my performance instead of giving my heart a blissful palpitation.

Arthur had tossed the ball that I passed and Antonio jumped high from the wood parquet court floor and gave the ball a hard spank. Francis had tried very hard to block it with hands but it hadn't just made himself to jump high enough. The ball met the floor in an angry impact, bounced and skidded crossing through the end line.

The shot was obviously a point so the lineman pointed his flag down, the squeaky whistle was blown up again and the umpire pointed his palm towards our side of the net, signalling that we got the first point of the game. The girls watching roared, squealed and giggled at that. It was primary because of Antonio as he was like one of the more popular guys, raking in mobs and mobs of fangirls at school.

"KKKIIIIIIIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLLLL !" fangirl screeches just reached the dangerous 140-decibel mark.

Me? I couldn't care less and couldn't be more thrilled than annoyed about having fans that will just blow your eardrums off. However, seeing the girl I most adored smiling at me with those pretty clapping hands, is an exception that would even make me live for a thousand years.

"That's quite a nice spike." I stared towards our Spanish team captain and tapped his shoulder.

The guy squared his shoulders. "Haven't done it with your _muy bien_ pass, amigo." He elbowed my ribs and patted the shoulder of Arthur. "And you too, that was an excellent set."

"Don't think I did it for the team." he closed his eyes and then opened them only to glare at both of us. "You should have tossed the ball and I should have spiked it. By then, I could squash that heathen twat's obnoxious face beyond repair."

With that, the other court passed him the ball and he walked away towards the service area, dribbling the wall and bracing his small-framed thin body into the sealed parquet floor. Stood there, waiting for the sound of a smacked rubber ball and in a split second I heard what I waited for. The ball flew over me and down into the other court in speed that would make a bullet train look like a sluggish snail.

Aware of all the wicked plans inside Arthur's head, Francis ducked and dodged the ball in time for him not to be going home with a broken nose. He would smile and snicker after that, scratch his beard of spikey blond stubbles and wink at the bushy-browed guy who flared his nose in response. What made STD laugh almost hysterically is when he figured out Arthur's so fixated into inflicting injury in his _pretty _shit of a face that the ball went out of bounds and the points were given to them.

"Oh Arthur! mon cheri!" He chortled even more if that was even possible. "That was such a fail, mon amour…"

"Yes, you're actually precise. I am a fail, _my darling_…" Arthur closed his eyes and calmly wiped sweat from his neck with a neatly folded, embroidered handkerchief. "…And so was your dad's condom and your mum's IUD too."

I raised my eyebrow at that and I could feel my mouth twitch at the sides, anticipating some dirty laughter. Arthur said it so loud and so naturally that it sounded a bit more funnier and insulting than it was supposed to actually sound. Francis' face cannot be absolutely drawn. The players and the spectators alongside roared in laughter at that unexpected remark until the umpire blew the whistle telling us to shut up and get going.

The service was now in the hands of Francis' team, particularly, Ivan's hands… huge hands. The guy was very tall and certainly was an advantage to their team. He dribbled the ball, wearing that easy and confident smile and hit it in a loud rubbery smack. One would never want that guy to be in the direction of their spikes as those jumping lengthy legs and humongous hands would stop and pin the ball back in a swoosh just like your heavy-duty fly swatter.

However… Ivan at the service area? Disaster.

I saw the ball flew up to 10 meters away from court, and got a _10-point _shot in the basketball court.

Some dumb students playing at the basketball court would now scratch their head figuring out how to remove that extra score made by a volleyball ball out of the digital scoreboard. Francis stared back at Ivan, trying his best not to glare.

"What? My hands didn't even swing an inch." I heard the guy reason out as he threw both of his hands and squared his shoulders, staring back at the blond bearded lad.

"Oh, alright." Francis snorted, looking away and stared at me but I evaded it and pretended that I wasn't looking at his unsightly vexed face.

Our team rotated in position and Antonio bumped at me stepping quite hard at my left foot. Unpleasant as it does felt, his crushing foot had reminded me that it was now my turn at service. I had actually almost forgotten it. But now, all my thoughts go backwards as I take every step towards the back of the end line. I could almost feel Elizabeta's glance boring a whole in my consciousness. Although, I wasn't even sure that she's looking and waiting for me to give it my all… just to impress her.

I didn't dare to steal a glimpse on her. It would make me tense out of my wits– trembling and unstable, like a poorly made cake that flattens towards the centre. I've always been in my life, a calm and collected human being. It was as if nothing would faze me enough, shock me enough or upset me enough. I tell you… that would perfectly define me as a boring person. But the one whom I dreamt to be with had put some colour into who I am.

I learned to be fazed. I learned to be shocked. I learned to be upset. I experienced being restless and flustered. Because of her… I learned to be afraid.

I dribbled the ball, concentrating in making a good serve.

I almost didn't hear Francis' jeering, Antonio's mothering and Arthur's foul blabber. The only thing that I clearly heard is the sound of the whistle screaming for me to throw and hit the ball. I sighed.

The ball was flown up into the air with an easy flick of my left hand. I stared at it coming down smoothly, springing myself up. My right hand slapped the rubber ball in a loud smack angling it in the right position and in a very fast speed, ensuring precision and an ace shot.

It landed in just beyond the attack line and right between Francis' legs. I saw and heard it bounced before my eyes were forcibly shut by a soft sting that some amount of sweat sprayed caused. It came from my forehead and into my glasses and some descended into my eye the moment my feet reached the ground.

I heard cheers and claps, most loudly from Antonio. I also heard then the sound of Francis' jaw dropping. I stared towards the sides at the spectators who are mostly girls but couldn't care if they were actually squee-ing, cheering or applauding. I just haven't seen Liz where she was sitting before.

Without any warning, the bell rang- telling us to vacate the place as our physical education class is over.

"Ok, students! Let's just continue the match on our next meeting. Vacate the place now and please carry all your water bottles with you…" Our gym teacher's voice on the megaphone seemed to just slip across, unnoticed in my ears. How could I pay attention to my ears? When my eyes are busy, rolling frantically from side to side searching for someone that might only repay my feelings back with sweet but dull heartaches.

Finally, after turning and shaking my head around like a fool, I just saw her curly and pony tailed light brown hair, her alluring back and her deep red duffel bag. She was on her phone, talking to someone.

I smiled, walked a few feet towards her and almost uttered her beautiful name.

However, someone sporting a tennis outfit sauntered from the gym door, one hand holding a phone on one ear and a free hand slightly swinging a naked racket.

He smiled and slid the phone in his pocket.

Elizabeta ran towards him, hugged him loosely. The other one softly kissed her in the forehead.

"Gilbert, I thought you won't come and pick me up today?" I heard her say with that contented smile that made my heart sting.

"Well, I'm here…" I heard him reply.

They laughed together and then Liz squeezed the other one's nose, on which he responded with a quick "Oww!". She then reached for his arm to hold him. He squirmed gently and I heard him tell her.

"Wait, Liz… I think your shoelaces are undone." He knelt down. "Wait… I will tie it for you."

_I could now only wish I would tie those shoelaces for her…  
>But she already had somebody to do it for her,<em>

_So she might never trip or fall for someone else..._  
>...<em>And love somebody like me.<em>

-o**0**o-

...

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><p><strong>AN:** OHHH… Yay!~. Thank you very much for enduring the story up to this part!

This, itself, is not my very first APH fan fiction. I have three others but reading them all again, I have decided that I would post a softer-themed fic for a starter (Although the other three are significantly more developed and "thinked" than this fic). I know the volleyball scene kind of sucked but oh well, I really did tried my best. I like improvements so a REVIEW is much appreciated.

BTW… This is not a one-shot, there are more chapters to come. So if you like it, just follow my updates (Add to Story Alert)

**One more thing… T.T:**

I would be honest, posting this is kinda suicide for me because I know that I wouldn't be able to update for more or less two months because of an out-of-town, on-the-job training (life sucks). But still I'll continue writing even if I don't have my laptop. Long live fan fiction writing!

**One last thing (PS):**

Formatting in sucked a lot that I didn't manage to keep my original formatting (i.e. double spaces). Since I figured out after wasting hours that double spacing is impossible, I came up with the solution to use ellipses for the 'thought effect'. Tsk. Sigh.

**Update:**

Formatting now fixed! :)

-iSaMs-


	2. My Dearest

This thing over there kind of messes up with my lay-out...

* * *

><p><strong>Almost<br>**~An APH Fan Fiction~  
>[AU, HETERO, DL?DR!]<br>(Frying Pangle)  
>I don't own APH whatsoever.<p>

* * *

><p>Early AN here: Informative footnotes are provided at the fic's end. I apologise for the delay, explanation for that is at the end too.

Enjoy and thank you very much for visiting!

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><p><strong>Chapter Two: My Dearest<strong>

...**  
><strong>

-o**0**o-

It is truly hard to make yourself noticed by someone you really like. You would think, you have already done _everything_ for her not to ignore you. But apparently, she would.

It was like… studying for the exams of a subject you haven't taken, cramming for a quiz that isn't actually recorded. More like getting prepared for your three-movement solo recital, but then, the witless organizer forgot to put your name in the programme so your turn never came.

I stared at the glass-panelled window beside me, observing the current fall bringing out all the pretty earthy colours of nature. Layer by layer, auburns, golds and browns covered the ground like splattered, translucent watercolours on textured cream paper. I am very pleased by my nonchalant watching of this breathtakingly picturesque world, an enchanting and somnolent world slowly lulling itself into a deep slumber. I would really be… if not only for whom it reminded me.

_Dearest beautiful hazel-haired young lady,  
>When will you ever stop tormenting me?<em>

My eyes rolled away and closed for a little while. My mind was forcing itself to keep away all of those bittersweet and agonizing thoughts from my chest. I would sharply tell my mind not to listen to whatever my weak heart tells it. _Shy away all these unnecessary thoughts!_- Those words in my head would repeat again and again in a cycle that takes time to end. My forcing of a stoic countenance had worked flawlessly in the past most of the time. But now, I could only hope that it will still work then and again when my state of mind is in this terrible distress.

I really just wanted to concentrate and listen to the lecture for now.

But when I opened my eyes... I saw our music teacher, Mr Kohler -a stereotypically classical musician-defying young adult fresh from university with hairsprayed wild hair, pierced ears and crisp vigour that matches his voice- put his obvious vast collection of beer key chains on his desk in the form of trinkets in his rugged and torn violin case. I wasn't very convinced of that man as I saw him on that first day of school. It seemed that he was just some pedestrian rock star who apparently got lost at our school gates and finds himself at our music classroom. But since our old, tenor-voiced _maestro _packed his repertoires and got into retirement, it left us no other better choice.

However, behind the spikes of his blond hair, roughly loud humour and rare unfitting fits of seriousness, his repertoire was kind of... I may say- impressive. His playing of Paganini's Caprice no. 7 and Schubert's Der Erlkoenig tells me barefacedly that there's so much more than meets the eye. But what makes my eyes roll the other way is his claims of hearing The Champagne Galop whenever he passed out drunk. However, he enjoyed it much when he got some of his students into that kind of humour.

He widely smiled as he was telling us that he'll continue last meeting's vibrato exercises, inducing a _not-again_ whining from those students who still have those sore finger joints. And as a plus for this day, he said, he will introduce a _new_ lesson in music history and literature. But apparently, both were not excitingly new to me. One part of the reason is that I could do romantic vibrato like since I was born and the other half was because the _new lesson _was just about Vivaldi, his bowing techniques and string-playing. I could only sigh and wish he would teach me something I don't know.

Nothing much to do, I pulled off the fastening strap of my dark blue, leather-bound notebook and laid it spread on my tabletop. With my calligraphy pen held by my absent-mindedly controlled right hand, flowing lines had embedded themselves on the random off-white page of lined paper. Only in the middle of my penning, had I recognised what had my unpleasant reverie had inscribed- a quote which I only vaguely remember, Erik Satie himself had inscribed in his most deep heartbreak.

"_She left me with nothing but an icy loneliness that fills the head with emptiness and the heart with sadness."_

I just stared at the words which, in spite of being just ink and paper, had this power to painfully etch themselves deep within my hopeless, shattered pieces of unreturned affections. Then it just suddenly came up to me how undeserving I was to feel such feeling of bittersweet resentment towards the young woman I love.

_This is just pathetic, you know, dearest Elizabeta.  
>How could I ever resent you for leaving me...<br>...when you have never been mine?_

"Hey little ray of blue-coloured sunshine, what's with those deep pucker brows?"

I blinked fast in surprise as I heard some hushed voice intrude upon my private thoughts.

"I'm just getting bored. Mind your own business, Antonio." I flatted out in all retort, not even placing a hint of glance upon him.

"_Ay_, you seemed so happy hitting the ball yesterday at phys-ed class. I was just wondering, where all that energy go?"

I swept my fingers over the fringe that strayed on my forehead and removed my eyeglasses. An uncontrollable sigh eased out of my lungs and almost made me yawn. Eyes glossy with drowsy tears I rolled them towards him, uninterestedly.

"Well? _Que, amigo?_" He couldn't help but raise his eyebrows in curiosity.

"Well maybe... hmm, I think that this has something to do with _you_ draining it all up? So you know what? Go away... Don't talk to me."

Antonio was my only classmate who was also in all my classes in all the same schedules. And unfortunately for me, both of us also registered in the same elective. Him tagging along, even if it might just be co-incidental, would get into my nerves in instances such as this. He's overly active, squirmy, ask-y and doesn't know how and when to shut his mouth up. The words quiet and silence are obviously unaccepted terms in this terribly idiotic vocabulary of his and it was kind of hard to deal with it every single day. I was also death-tired of his face hanging around my proximities most of the time. If I could possibly be able to puke a face, Antonio's face would certainly be the first one to be expelled. Now that I have thought of it, I kind of felt a little disgust and took a small peek onto him, punishing myself into feeling more annoyed.

But instead of being offended by me shooing him away as if he was a dirty fly (which is kind of pointless mentioning because HE is pitifully too slow to get offended), he just pulled out a wink and smiled roguishly with his lips.

One of my brows unintentionally twitched "Where did you get that? From that flirtatious libertine friend of yours?"

"No, I am pretty sure that I have a more alluring smile than Francis..." Antonio boasted about that and stared intently into the teacher at the same time. He followed his eyes after Mr. Kohler when the teacher excused himself to go outside for just a while. By then and after that, he continued to bug me.

"...And no I am not flirting with you."

I laughed inwardly as I heard him say that and in the peak of disgust, I sharply snapped back at him.

"Wha-? What are you? Even if you're a girl, I'll never want you to flirt with me."

Even with that, he just stayed there scratching the patch of skin at the corner of his eye without a care in the world. Unaffected at what I said, he just added more and more mindless blabber in his own epitome of an _intelligent_ conversation.

"Hmm...Actually, if I were a girl, I'd go out with you." He said those words as if it wasn't something outrageous. Then he nonchalantly gave his arms a good stretch and after that, he blithely added "I mean, for real... however, I'm surely not a _chica_ so that's highly unlikely to happen but-"

"NOT INTERESTED!"

Full of it, I just swatted him out just like a dirty fly that he is.

I just can't believe how the rusty cogs in this Spaniard's mind roll. Most of the time, I cannot do anything but to smack my head trying to induce a throbbing migraine. It's a kind of pain that is far much more bearable than scrutinizing Antonio's sensibility, of which was utterly insufferable.

Since two years ago, I had been agonizing on being disturbed by the antics of Antonio and his friends at our supposed-to-be restful dormitory. Living with them was such a hell on earth and I could even bet that hell might be a lot better. I was just thankful at that time, because I still have a bit of peace and quiet at class. One or two subjects with them, I could easily brush off... but an entire DAY with one of them? Now that's a different story.

"Oh how I long for those bygone days when at least I had myself with normal people having a normal day in a normal classroom. My final year at high school is such literal pain in the ear and that just purely sucks."

Those words, I quietly whispered singsong-ly to myself but all with the half-intention of making Antonio hear it.

"Ah, Roddy. Go out with a girl. Have a nice _chica_ to be with you on dates in fancy places. You're always by yourself acting as if you're married to that violin of yours. Really! And your idea of going out is only on your loner trips to the school's dusty music rooms. When you finally discover the joy of having someone special, you will realize that school doesn't really suck that bad."

However, I do make no intention of him only half-hearing it.

I still could not help myself but to huff out a quick sigh of irritation at what he happened to say, mainly because I inevitably realized that they were all bluntly true.

_I hadn't been with anyone  
>Because I would never want to be with just 'anyone'<br>Of everyone, Elizabeta, I hold you dearest_

"You might not believe it but I'm kind of worried about you-"

"Oh God, I am so bored." I yawned loudly, stretched my stiff back and put my eyeglasses on.

I didn't let him finish. I have to cut him as soon as I could before he could further read me unconsciously. However, it never ceases to amaze me on how far intelligent was Antonio's subconscious than all those knowledge that his hands could pull out from the pockets of his mind. Sometimes, it gets too much that it makes me mind-blown and curious. But still, I couldn't let him step over the line of what's private and sentimental to me. That's just almost the same as making me stand in front of a mirror that shamelessly shows all my flaws and failures.

"Speaking of getting bored, _amigo_, I have an ice-breaker for you." Without standing, he dragged his buttocks and chair nearer to me then handed one of the white-wired earbuds of his phone's headset. He then proudly declared, "It's my voice demo."

Just ultimately glad of a change in topic, I accepted it.

I put the thing in my right ear and not even a few seconds after, I laughed my mind out.

"Seriously?"

The Spaniard nodded and flashed out a serious look but still hadn't able to hold it and keep himself from laughing out loud, catching the fondly attentions of some of our girl classmates- which some he likes to flirt with and some who have their stories similar to what I have- totally unrequited.

"Fine, fine... It's G-Gilbert's!" He barely coughed out in his breathlessness.

"Hardly an icebreaker for me. Please bring me something I don't expect next time." I let out a mocked yawn and smiled amusingly, though growing quite peeved than before. Although deep inside, I'd really hate to admit the truth that all my reasons pointed into the fact that it was _that_ Gilbert's voice.

That Gilbert shit, a popular varsity athlete who carries a rosary every time but almost never prays on it. That petty bastard who plays the main antagonist role in my unrequited young love story. He really enjoys seizing the pen from my hand and scribbling his own existence in my story's poor pages. By effortlessly waltzing Elizabeta out from my disheartened love, how triumphant he is in making it even more unrequited.

But oh and well, I didn't knew he could sing in Latin. I didn't even have a single idea that he could actually _sing_.

_Dearest Elizabeta,  
>Could you please tell me...<br>What can have you possibly seen in him?_

"You laughed! Don't deny it." Antonio elbowed me on the ribs and flashed out his obviously orthodontically-perfected teeth.

I rolled my eyes and purposely held my laughter to myself. But even how much I tried, it wasn't very easy to do. "Okay... yes, I didn't expect Gilbert to sing Ave Maria." I started to laugh out loud in forms of hushed snickers with my face dumped down my arm, my shoulders bobbing in laughter. I peeked towards Antonio's amused face, let out a small chuckle and said in a low voice. "This is totally priceless."

"I know right?" Antonio rolled his eyes quick towards the door to check if our teacher was anywhere near, then quickly back to me and said, hiding his laugh. "And I have something far even better than that."

He gave me his other earbud and I got it hooked onto my left ear. Still resting my head on my arm, I saw him press next on his player, placed it on my desk and eagerly await my reaction.

"Pffft..." I tried to hold it but it was too ridiculous-sounding that I had to laugh hard or else my head will explode. A handful of co-students started to get notice the foolishness of me entertaining Antonio's embarrassing his poor friend. I could see a faint look of curiosity in them in the slight blur of my minor near-sightedness.

"Autotuned and remixed." He chortled and bragged his supposed _brilliantness_. "You can practically dance a dubstep on it now."

I quickly wiped off the tears in my eyes and told him off with a frivolous smile. "Ah, Antonio, I'll tell you again... go away! This is just plain mean. Gilbert's one of your bestest friends, like... how can you do something like this?"

"Yes, absolutely, we're best of friends. And that's the reason why I'm doing this." He drew his simple smile again after pursing his lips.

Certainly, I have heard it so often that your best friends are the only ones who are very proud of your embarrassing experiences. I have never believed that just as easily because I already forgotten the feeling of having a best friend ever since I was five. Now, this might be a concrete example that will make me somewhat believe it a little... even just a little.

"Really, you need some alternate hobby to do..." I straightened on my seat and forcefully ignored the noise of Gilbert's deafeningly awful performance even made worse by his best friend. "other than wasting your time making these dreadful audios."

He just slightly arched his eyebrow in doubt. "Why? I don't think that making someone laugh is a waste of time for me." He then rested his elbow towards my desk and therefore it just happened that he hit the volume button hard into full bars.

"HEY!" I quickly yanked out both of the earbuds because of the throbbing surprise pain it punched in. "That hurt, you fucking bastard!"

Now, everyone- not only Antonio's admirers and a curious handful-looked towards us, all wearing their startled expression as my rare-arising profane vocabulary had taken them by surprise. But unfortunately, to my own startling surprise as well, it was the time that Mr Kohler had entered back into the classroom.

"What's with the foul mouth, Mr. Edelstein?" He raised his eyebrow and looked towards Antonio who was carefully taking his time processing what's happening. "You, Mr. Fernandez, go back to your seat and you again… we'll have the talk afterwards."

"B-but… I didn't do anything wrong!" My voice became incredibly heated for I do really think falsely seeing me up as the bad student here was so, so wrong. "You have seen don't you? Antonio, obviously bothering me by not being on his seat and-"

He just quickly pointed his conducting baton to me and gesticulated with his left hand, like a melodramatic conductor who directs his orchestra to shut up. "Like I said, we'll have the _talk_ after class."

"What seat you guys are talking about? I _am_ already in my seat..." The dumb Spaniard, finally reaching the present era, still managed to quietly object.

_J-Just shut up! I'm the one fucked here not you._ It was all my mind had fizzled out as I glared towards the Spaniard who in turn silently dragged his seat into where it supposed to be.

"Sorry..." He held a peace sign with his right hand and whispered "I didn't mean to do it."

"_Gusch_, Whatever!" I let out a whispered yell to him

"Okay, quiet, all of you." The teacher tapped his baton on his desk. "Today, you'll have a new classmate, seems she wanted this class more as an elective. Good choice for her."

I slammed shut my eyes, being absolutely irate because of the course of unfortunate things, I unconsciously blurted out "Oh great, what's so noble about that? I don't believe it all so much. It'll just be another half-arsed, indecisive_ scheisse_ dropper who can't stand electronics or trigonometry as their elective. Really, what do they take this music class for? A piece of fucking cake?"

Yes, I definitely knew that I was in real trouble, in _very_ serious trouble for saying such offensive words. But surprisingly, I happen to not actually care. Well... I thought, either way I'll still get the detention. At that point it seemed to be a good idea for it made me feel a lot better. The refreshing feeling of airing out my troubles in a foul manner- passively and irrationally- wasn't that bad after all.

"Hey, I won't allow that kind of talk-!" Mr. Kohler nearly yelled at me as expected but he was held off by a sweet female voice.

"It's okay Mr. Kohler, really." I opened my eyes at the same time she introduced herself. And almost literally, I heard my heart explode in my ears and my jaw crack open at what I heard and saw.

I might as well eat the words 'feel a lot better', choke on it and die this instant.

"Hello, I'm Elizabeta Hedervary. Nice to meet you all."

She still flashed this relaxed and fetching smile even though I had just defamed her in front of the whole class. I could only feel all the blood drain from my system and rushed back all into my cheeks making them red hot in utter shame.

"Okay, Elizabeta, you could pick any vacant seat you want."

As I heard our teacher mentioned that to her, I suddenly remembered that the seat directly at my back wasn't belonging to anyone. I was all immersed in that unlucky possibility that even Mr. Kohler's I-might-not-look-like-it-but-I'll-be-bad-if-you're-bad sermon had just swiftly entered my right ear and passed through my left, unnoticed.

_I prayed more than I have prayed in my life  
>for that long-awaited moment that you'd finally see me.<br>But I would never wish that you'll see me as wrongly.  
>Please spare me the shame that I will feel,<br>Beloved Elizabeta._

I only looked away, never daring to look her in the eye. My posture, slumped back into the chair in a boyish and unconcerned fashion, I tried to hide the awkward nervousness that was taking surface in my skin. My eyes focused again on the scenery framed by the window but it couldn't take any sights into my mind that was only full of embarrassment. I tried to appear brave but I don't even feel that I have any decent face to show her.

All of my senses seemed to overcompensate, but it could only catch things that come from her or from my own nerves. I could hear her emphasized footsteps amongst the classroom noise getting louder and louder as she gets near towards me. The sound of my heartbeat almost became as ridiculously-sounding as Gilbert's autotune singing. Deafening and unpleasant... breaking me into cold sweat that I could only feel trickle down from my temples.

"Hi Iza." Antonio greeted her warmly. I imagined him waving towards her as she passed at our aisle.

"Hello, Antonio."

Her voice seems to drown out more all the other noises that I am supposed to hear. I've been extra sensitive from the dragging of her seat to the sound of her books being one by one shoved into the book compartment. I almost could hear the sound of her plaid skirt brushing into the flat surface of her seat. Her hair, I could hear those strands softly touching the rest of the school's straight-backed chair.

Maybe it was all just what my imagination played in the theatre of my heart and mind. But I was right, she did pick the seat that was directly at my back. Of all the eight other vacant seats that she could pick, it made me even redder that she had chosen to sit near me. She might be really mad but I won't dare to see it though because it will break my very heart. But despite preventing myself to think of it, I almost feel her stare as if it were actually real.

_Am I even half as important as your beloved?  
>Does your heart even raise a beat as you see me in front of you?<br>Would it even be significant if I apologize,  
>when I am not even infinitesimally dearest to you?<em>

I felt that I was totally paralyzed though I want to act like a man. I know that I have to painfully admit that now must be the end of all my feelings for her. It was clearly my fault. I always blabber about how Antonio couldn't keep his mouth shut when I say the worst things at the worst possible time. But I have to say sorry to her at least, so I could forgive myself from being so stupid.

It was selfish- making myself feel good by saying I'm sorry. I might as well be apologetic by not apologizing so that I could punish myself through self-torment. But, like I haven't been tormenting myself enough to add more insults to my injuries.

Sighing very deeply, feeling very exasperated towards myself, I turned around and swallowed my shyness- the whole of it- and tried to act naturally, forcing myself to speak a word without stuttering but before it could even start, I felt all the voice I have die away and wither.

"Hey." Instead, she was the one who started talking. I felt like a total fool. "Don't worry about it." She laid her gentle green eyes towards me for a second, smiled and then continued to level a sticker _Music _to where the word '_Electronics' _in_ Electronics Class_ was once written.

Still, I was caught up in the moment and was waiting my evaporated courage to rain back from our classroom's white-plastered ceiling.

"By the way, you are somewhat right. Electronics class isn't for me, so..." She grimaced at that and grunted softly as the sticker won't cover all the previous ones and it just had read _Musicics_.

I felt amused by that and with her talking to me normally had made me comfortable to finally say it to her. "No. I apologize... for saying those things. I.. I really shouldn't have.."

"It's okay, really. No prob." She laid her eyes on me again and lightly smiled "Although, I want to point out to you clearly that my decision wasn't half arsed at all. Not in any way. Just so you know."

I immediately turned away from her. What she said had made all the little droplets of courage that had fortunately gravitated back to me to drain away, far away and I don't have any idea if it will ever come back.

...

* * *

><p>...<p>

"_Say, Liz… Do you have plans after class, wanna go and grab some gelato?"_

Saying those fourteen words earlier whenever I would happen to bump into her at the gym, at the library, hallway, study, chemistry lab… wherever, it would have made a huge difference. Day after day, years ago, I would allow my bashfulness to let the chance pass away, let it be tomorrow until the day came that '_tomorrow'_ had belonged to someone else.

What happened at Music Class had a great impact on wherever place I go. Even though how much Antonio would bug me at the other classes that we have taken, I never seem to see the light of day that came on. I just felt so generally down that I wanted to rush into my own sanctuary as soon as possible.

Before I finally set foot on the momentarily sombre dorm lobby, I spent the free afternoon tutoring Antonio to do violin vibrato exercises. He pleaded for me to help him even though I wasn't exactly in the mood to be annoyed by anyone, especially him. Oh, and he is so gonna pay my fee at the upcoming batch camping trip. As I see him struggle over arms that were rigid like tree twigs, I have wondered why the hell he stiffens up when he holds the neck when he have all this grace when he was sliding up and down a guitar's fret board.

It took us an hour and a half that seemed like an eternity but I have to admit that a great part of that dragging duration with my mind taking off towards empty space. My thoughts were fleeting too high that I even forgot to yell at Antonio's very nasty, screechy rendition of Bizet's Habanera. What actually happened was the opposite- him yelling at me to snap out from wherever I was.

"_HEY! To where the hell is your mind taking you?"_

"_To the mall to buy earplugs, idiot! So shut up and continue playing."_

Annoying as it was, but I might still say a quiet thanks to him for bringing me back from my condensing illusions. Never wanting to go back there again, I kept my mind busy by playing the piano accompaniment of the piece. However, with Antonio's pitiful and repeat-studded playing that won't synch to my own, my head hurts now as if the piano hammers were actually beating on it. Instead of feeling better, being sane might have made me worse.

Thinking about the fiasco I caused earlier made my mind emotionally crushed. But Antonio's string playing, for God's sake, just made my mind's anatomy go splat. And yes, literally, it felt like that.

The tunes that filled the poor music room were nothing but a mess of carnival music gone haywire and not some soulful tango that it was supposed to be. I won't ever be surprised if an angry mob stormed at us because of the terrible noise we made. Even I was driven crazy mad by it.

Down, tired and with a throbbing headache, I checked my mail and parcel compartment. The small, grey-painted metal slot had nothing in it so I shut it locked and ran off to the stairs. I pulled the room key from my pocket while in flight and momentarily played it in my fingertips. Soon I stepped into the buildings third floor, and by turning left I'll be only steps away from faceplanting into my soft, comfortable bed.

The idea made me feel a lot better and I can't wait to drown in my own bed sheets. The solid, chestnut door was quite exceptionally inviting at that moment. And as I insert the key and turn it until it makes that lovely clicking sound, I could almost breathe in my own tiredness and get intoxicated by it.

However, when I swung the door wide open which made that irritating creaky sound, all I could breathe in was the stench of unwashed laundry and I was nauseatingly _toxic_ated by it.

_Gilbert…_

I stormed out of the room, slammed the door and banged five knocks onto the opposite room's door. Dropping my violin case, I paused in exasperation as no one answers even though I hear some noise inside, that made me knock loudly a few times more until finally giving up hurting my hand and yelled.

"Francis! I know you're there and I could hear your porn all the way here! Open the door this instant!"

"Why? Do you want to join, _cheri_?"

"Ugh! Shut up." A disgusted forced breath escaped my chest and I folded on my own demands. "Okay, don't open the door! Just tell me where the hell that _scheisse_ Gilbert is!"

"What? I don't know! He either off with Elizabeta to get some gelato or the sort, if not, then he is with Antonio, flexing their muscles… W-wait… let me guess, Gilbert had left a bomb _again_ at your room?"

"Yes. That.. That _oaschloch _left our room a mess and even hung some of his dirty laundry at my bed! Totally and outrageously disgusting!"

I didn't know why I let myself sound stupid like I wanted Francis to be concerned and offer me help. Stupid Francis have his brains stuck in his balls and could only offer a hand that could only make me rather worse than relieved.

"Poor little thing! If you're quite tired and need a nap at the moment, you could stay at our room for a while until Antonio returns. Of course I'm sure he wouldn't be mad at all if you use his bunk for a little while!"

That is one concrete example of a stupid help. Not much stupid if offered by others, but seriously, Francis?

"No, thank you!"

But the guy doesn't seem to know how to listen. I refused but still, I heard his laptop smack close and his body roll from the dishevelled bed, slapping his butt into the tiled floor. Not too long after, my ears catch stubborn footsteps that were directed towards the door.

"I said, no and thanks!" In desperation of not wanting to see something I don't want to see, I told him off firmly. "Don't you dare open the door or I'll rip your-!"

"What? Relax, I am not watching porn, you see. What you have really only done is to disturb my beauty sleep and nothing else. So what do you say, _cheri_?"

"What do I say? I tell you you're clearly doing your hand and not some beauty sleep." I slapped my forehead in exasperation and told him off. "Next time, before popping yourself out, button your shirt properly and zip your fly."

Picking up my violin case, I turned my back away from his improperly-clothed body and walked back towards my door, giving up all hope. But perverted thoughts seem to always escape a perverted mind as outrageous words.

"You're looking at my-"

"Oh shut up!" I hissed. "And turn your speaker volume down!"

Goes to show, I still cleared up the whole room especially my own demarcated side. I shoved all the dirty laundry into the owner's empty bookcase and slammed the cabinet's door shut. Some other days in the past, I would still have the mercy to fold it one by one and wrap it with a laundry bag, but now… what the hell. I am not his personal dirty shirt-folder, for heaven's sake, and if he tries to brim my impatience again, I would gladly throw his filthy clothes out of the window.

Even though I chose to forget and even though how much I try not to think about it, the fact screams the reality that I am living with a douchebag named Gilbert ever since two years ago.

I sat on my bed and rolled my eyes, sweeping my sight around the room I recently cleaned.

At that exact time, on this same room, I remember when I first met and glared at Gilbert for staring at me unpleasantly. I recalled he was there sunk on his bed and after that unpleasant staring, he gave me a smirk and a snickered _Guten Tag. _We spoke the same language so we are certainly supposed to get along. Well, if only he wasn't as obnoxious as he was. Since day two, we often fight over his stuff scattered everywhere and his being allergic to cleanliness. It even came to a point that we drew a demarcation line so that he would only dirty his side of the room. Ever since then we lived almost civil until that time came when he asked me a favour.

"_Roddy, Can you make me some letters? Uhm… Love letters. I-I really liked this girl and I'm not good at words so..." _I have never ever seen a shy reaction on him since until that unfortunate night. _"Elizabeta... You know her right?"_

"What?" The second he said that, I wasn't sure I heard right.

I knew Elizabeta had those special pair of eyes laid upon on Gilbert Beillschmidt as it was obvious. It left me broken hearted as I see her fall in love from afar. I envy those pretty smiles that Gilbert receives whenever they would meet at the library, gym or at science class. I knew that Gilbert wasn't the kind to fall in love with only one woman so I was still kind of happy because chances are, Gilbert won't return the glances that Elizabeta gives him. I still had kept some hope in that.

Of course I told him off and just said to him an excuse that love letters are a passé and just as corny.

I flatted out at him that I won't ever do it and he should make it himself or find some other person to do it for him. Not me, not ever.

But I never thought that Gilbert was any serious until I came across the grave difficulty of shooing him away.

"_Why don't you ask Francis to do it for you? I bet he had more words than I have because he is far more experienced."_

"_Francis? No way! I'll let him write clinging girls I dislike, but for Liz? No way in hell!"_ I remember him staring at me in the eye with such overwhelming desire. _"Listen, Roderich, even though you haven't got a single girlfriend ever, I bet my whole life that you are a better lover."_

I know Gilbert only used flattery to persuade me but he pleaded to me more and even offered to make my damn physics homework for me.

I agreed.

And it was the stupidest decision I have done in my life.

It wasn't the flattery, the cleaning or the homework. Even though how tempting they were, I still told Gilbert to keep his offers to himself. I thought, through the letters, I could finally tell my feelings to Elizabeta in a discreet manner. But how stupid of me not to think that I was writing under Gilbert's name! My discreet profession of love was only the truth masked by deceiving lies of the truth of Gilbert's own feelings of love. We were both cowards, but doing that favour for him made me much more of a shameful coward than him.

As Elizabeta responds positively towards him, Gilbert was convinced of his earlier flattery that I was a better lover than most men. He constantly bugs and talks to me about his progress and that soon he would make Liz his girl.

"_Why don't you simply ask her out, so I could finally stop making embarrassing letters for you."_

"_Ask her out? Oh yeah, I've thought about that… But where the hell should I take her to? How should I say it? Let me think."_

"_Tsk! Say something like 'Say, Liz… Do you have plans after class, wanna go and grab some gelato?' then go. Stop disturbing me and let me get some sleep."_

I was a better lover than most men but I wasn't the best.

Again, saying those fourteen words earlier whenever I would happen to bump into her at the gym, at the library, hallway, study, chemistry lab… wherever, it would have made a huge difference. Day after day, years ago, I had allowed my stupidity to let the chance pass away, let it be tomorrow until the day came that '_tomorrow'_ had belonged to someone else.

I let myself fall into the bed and close my eyes, trying to be calm as only sleep would make me forget the unfortunate events that my mistakes have caused. It may take forever to forget about it but I know that someday I would just laugh remembering how stupid I was in my youth. But now, I still have a headache to be dissolved by the quietness of the late afternoon sunset.

"Yo! Roddy!"

I immediately rolled away, brought my knees closer and pressed a pillow against my head. Why the hell this selfish life won't allow me to have what I want? From the young woman that made my heart melt to a well-deserved rest that would make my worries melt. I am very tired and I bet I could kill for just a minute of sleep.

And it tempts me so much as I felt a hand shaking my shoulder.

"Hey! It's an awes-"

"Gilbert, this might not sound like me but if you won't go away, I might punch you in the face!" I gave him a firm and serious threat under the muffling of my pillow. "And you idiot had let in a filthy windstorm in our room. If I happen to see this room in such state again, I would NEVER hesitate to make a bonfire out of your dirty laundry."

"Oh really?" Despite that he only trumpeted his irksome trademark laugh. "I know you would never do that."

I rolled on my back and gave him a dire serious face. "You want me to start now? Do you have any matches?"

"Okay, fine. I'll clean next time and I won't bother you." With a pout, he continued. "Anyway, I just wanted to ask you a while ago if you wanna join Francis, Antonio and I for some DVD tonight."

Raising my eyebrows, I rolled my back away from him and covered my head again with the soft pillow.

"Hell no, Gilbert. Whatever it is you fags are planning, I'm not too much of a fool to fall for it twice."

"Okay... You said so. We're sincere."

I felt my mattress breathe out as Gilbert lifted his butt away while telling me an obvious lie in a singsong voice. It was so laughable so I firmly groaned out to him.

"Sincere my ass."

"Roddy, don't sleep with your eyeglasses on."

"The hell you care!"

Thanks to that insensitive fool, my sleepiness seemed to not exist anymore. I don't know if it was his brief disturbance or his simple presence that had broke the inner peace and silence that I'm definitely sure was here before. However, what were present now were the sound of Gilbert's clothes scattering someplace again, some fallen spare change and the booting sound of some laptop.

I turned my body in the opposite direction and my eyes caught the sight of his back, crouched over casually in his study where his sticker album/laptop sits open almost in front of his face. I guess I know what will happen later on and I could do nothing but hold my breath as I wait for it.

Then that familiar beeping sound went off and the incoming voice confirmed my expectations of my thoughts.

"_Hi, Gil."_

"Hello Liz, good evening. Oh I haven't asked... did you like the gelato that we just had earlier?"

For the nth time...

Oh good lord! I can't believe these two still go on doing video chat when they're together and talk almost every day at school!

"_Yes, it was quite good. But I liked the gelato better on your brother's friend's place."_

"Oh. At Feli's?"

I wonder why the hell he could not ask her that senseless question earlier while they were _eating_ the gelato. It all appeared absurd and dumb to me but I don't feel like warning Gilbert at all because what he's doing plays the right card for me. Staring blankly ahead through his now and then nodding head, I couldn't help but be a little bit happy. Some menacing thoughts in my mind would simply deduce that if this keeps up, Elizabeta would be tired with him in no time.

For the next fifteen minutes, I endured the agony of just looking silently at two lovers exchanging small laughs, some cheesy sweet words and stories relating but not limited to how our delightfully large physics teacher struggled to walk in her tight pencil skirt. Just random crap lovers or sometimes, friends share to each other. It annoys me for I thought it was too juvenile and nonsensical. It annoys me so much because even though I thought it was too juvenile and nonsensical, it does seem to be fun. It annoys me to hell on how the seemingly fun juvenile and nonsensical moments fuelled my envy into becoming a raging fire.

_I could have easily been on his place  
>If I hadn't been much of a fool,<br>Now, what I could only force myself to do  
>is to bid my feelings goodbye.<em>

"Goodbye Liz. Goodnight too."

"_Same to you."_

With that, Gilbert's video call ended. I heard a few clicks made by his tapping on the keyboard and after that, he sat backwards and stretched his arms out high in the air. He turned his head to check in on me but I immediately pretended to be asleep. In my closed eyes, I only imagined his prolonged staring and his being startled as a knock tapped in on our dormitory room door.

"Hey Gilbert! Antonio is now here. Get your butt over here _tout de suite_."

"_Ja, ja_… _tout de suite_!"

I took a peek under my eyelashes along with my quivering eyelids and seen Gilbert scratch beneath his very light locks at the back of his head. He stood up and skidded to the door, opened it to Francis' face, got out and shut it loudly.

Lazily, I rose up and fixed my eyeglasses up on my nose bridge. Since I am certain that I could sleep no more, I thought it was just timely to get some dinner. I got on my feet and ran my hands through my shirt to get rid of stray little wrinkles. I felt my face and desired a trip to the washroom first to wash my face. As I opened my dresser's drawer and reached for a clean face cloth, my attention was caught by a soft beep from Gilbert's laptop.

I approached his study with the intention to close the lid of his laptop. But instead of just immediately doing so, what I have read had caught me up. A small smile escaped my expression.

**AWESOMEGILBERTBEILSCHMIDT: **See you tomorrow at class. :))

** ElizaHedervary:** Wait, Gil. What was that again you call me in your letters?"

_(Last message received 6:48 PM)_

I sat at Gilbert's chair, pursed my lips as the tips of my fingers touched upon the embossed letters of the flatkeyboard. Momentarily closing my eyes, I sighed for Gilbert.

_Good thing you weren't the one asked by her, you big fool._

But I sighed deeper for myself, more than I could sigh for anyone else.

**AWESOMEGILBERTBEILSCHMIDT**: Mein liebster Schatz?

Not so long after, a soft beep chimed again. I had quite a thought before that she was already offline, I checked her name on the drop-down list and the green indicator showed me that she's still there, present in front of her own screen.

** ElizaHedervary: **:D, I know that you already told me, but... can I ask again what does that mean?

At that time, I felt that I should have just closed the lid instead of dousing my wounded feelings in a bed of fine salt. But what could I do now? I couldn't just pat the grains off, shake it and walk away like nothing's happened, do I? Either way, the pain was already there and refusing to go away.

**AWESOMEGILBERTBEILSCHMIDT: **My most treasured love... My dearest.

** ElizaHedervary: **:) 333

** ElizaHedervary: **I love you, Gilbert.

**AWESOMEGILBERTBEILSCHMIDT: **Ich liebe dich auch, Elizabeta.

-o**0**o-

...

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Gosh, I know it had been longer than what I have said before- two months, is it? I am very terribly sorry for the delay. I can't believe it took me almost five months for another chapter. My netbook crashed and almost ALL of my manuscripts were there (yes, it is absolutely dumb of me to think before that a back up wasn't necessary _at all_). It was a pain trying to get it repaired or to even have just the documents extracted from it. Realizing that time is passing by very quickly, I rewrote all of these myself- from scratch of what I could only remember.

I kind of did an ok-job on this one, although I changed some things from my original manuscript. Mr Kohler (Denmark, yes he is, but with a much widely-used fanmade human name) was an OC before with a name got from a random German name generator and Roderich, on that one part, practiced by himself (too emo) instead of with Antonio. I believe my second edition was tad better than the original.

**Now with the informative footnote bits**:

Most of these are the classical music pieces mentioned above and I recommend you to listen to the pieces yourself through the sample YT links. Some information included here are also short descriptions of the music and its composer.

***Niccolo Paganini's Caprice No 7**- The most difficult of Paganini's 24 Caprices and also one of the most difficult violin compositions. (watch?v=7GD2wdRN-Uo)

***Franz Schubert's Der Erlkoenig**- The piece wasn't for violin itself but the one that Denmark plays here is Heinrich Ernst's adaptation for violin (watch?v=rQRw14JW_PU)

***The Champagne Galop (Champagnegaloppen)-** Composed by Danish musician Hans Christian Lumbye. It depicts an air of celebration and drinking through lively music and the sound of popping champagne corks. (watch?v=8L6WauJfwe0)

***Erik Satie (French composer 1866-1925)- **his quote scribbled by Roderich above was what he had said after he was left by his love, Suzanne Valadon. His relationship with her was the only intimate one he had in his life. He never married.

***Antonio Vivaldi (Italian composer 1678-1741)-** He's a virtuoso violinist whose best-known work was the series of violin concertos known as the Four Seasons.

***Franz Schubert's Ave Maria**- This was the Ave Maria that Gilbert sang. It's the Latin prayer version and not Schubert's German version. The German version was a translation of Sir Walter Scott's epic poem "Lady of The Lake" where Ave Maria was the opening words of the character, Ellen's song. (watch?v=pwp1CH5R-w4)

***Georges Bizet's Habanera from "Carmen Suite No. 2"-** This is pretty popular but this is for those who still don't know about it. _Carmen_ is a four-act opera made by Georges Bizet based on a novella of the same title by Prosper Mérimée. The setting for the opera was in Seville, Spain and nearby mountains. (watch?v=04x1a3i5gjs /or/ watch?v=3jilYzSIeiA)

**One Final Note:**

If you like this fic, I'll be very happy if you hit follow and fave. I'd also like to improve my writing, so some reviews sent will be very much appreciated.

-iSaMs-


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